


Overwatch shorts

by mx_vertiginous



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 01:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10821375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mx_vertiginous/pseuds/mx_vertiginous
Summary: This is just a collection of some of my Overwatch shorts, mostly non-shippy genfic, silly AUs and other non-explicit content. Some stories include canon-consistent implied violence, death, kidnapping etc...Chapter 1: What were the skies like when you were young? (Widowmaker origin story, The Orb/Ricki Lee Jones)Chapter 2: Junkrat's Treasure (Junkrat, Roadhog, Sombra)Chapter 3: MeiHam PTA AU (Mei, Roadhog, Junkrat)Chapter 4: BBQ (Mei, Roadhog, Junkrat)Chapter 5: The Hunger (Reaper, Widowmaker)More to come.





	1. What were the skies like when you were young?

Amelie asked sat down with her coffee at the two person table in their tiny apartment kitchen. She watched the steam from the warm cup with the dust motes in the afternoon sun. For once, she felt properly at peace. 

“Alexa, KCRW s’il vous plait.” An unknown song began playing softly on the hidden speakers, drowning out the sounds of Gerard showering in the next room.

It had been a month since she’d been back home and already the nightmare of her captivity was fading away. Her memories of the interrogation were clouded by a haze of sleep deprivation, and the more she caught up on her rest, the hazier they seemed. The hard narrow cot. Harsh overhead fluorescents. The endless growl of questions. The strange girl in the corner who chugged energy drinks all night while tapping away at a computer.

Even after she was released, Overwatch hadn’t helped. The debriefing process was equally exhausting, though at least she’d had Gerard by her side. 

She sighed deeply. Gerard had been her rock. Amelie would never have been strong enough to endure this without him. Through the hours of debriefing, the endless search for any tiny intelligence details on Talon, he had simply sat with her. Her hand in his. Calm. Pulled her head into his lap when she needed to sleep. Brushed her hair from her face when it was time to awake for more questions. 

Amelie could no longer remember if she had loved him like this before she was kidnapped, but she was overwhelmed with gratitude for him now. The whole mess had taken it’s toll on him, she knew, but he had been there for her at every step of the way. 

The music paused and the honeyed voice of the American DJ took over. She didn’t bother trying to decipher the English. It didn’t matter. His tone was as soft and warm as the sunlight.

The American DJ went quiet, and another mans voice took over.

“What were the skies like when you were young?”

The dust motes seemed to organize themselves into an impish spirit that grooved along to the old fashioned synthesizer melody in the background.

A girl’s voice answered. “They went on for ever - We lived in Arizona, and the skies always had little fluffy clouds in them, and they were long and clear and there were lots of stars at night. And when it would rain, it would all turn… They were beautiful, the most beautiful skies in the world.”

Time seemed to freeze. The words echoed back in her head. “… the most beautiful skies… the most beautiful skies… the most beautiful skies…“ 

Her mind went empty, and her body felt terribly cold.

There was a click of the doorknob and Gerard entered with a cheery “Allo, cherie.” 

But Amelie was gone.


	2. Junkrat's Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever wondered what Junkrat's "treasure" is? He does too.
> 
> A little bit of Junker worldbuilding.

The jumble of broken-down market stalls thrummed with a familiar energy. The Alice might trade in a slightly higher class of goods than the cobbled together debris of Junkertown, but the patois was the same. Whatve you got? How much? Naw mate, ain’t payin’ that. This is junk, ya cunt….

Junkrat wasn’t looking for trade though, he was in search of information. He lurched cackling past the food stands and music sellers, peering briefly into the remains of a blackened brick-and-mortar arcade, before finding his target. 

Unimpressive really. Just a folding steel grate over a boarded up stall. The peeling paint of the sign over top read “Mobile Repair, cracked screens, battery replacement”… hooley dooley it must have been over 50 years old! Roadhog huffed in annoyance behind his mask. But Jamie hopefully pounded on the boards in what he hoped was the code. 

The stall remained as closed as ever. 

“Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do!” 

Roadhog shook his head sideways and gave a deep grunt. Junkrat could tell he thought this quest was ridiculous… but again he pounded out the code.

Or what he thought was the code. Maybe the real code had slipped his mind.

Darkness and silence.

Then suddenly, a loud angry grunt from Roadhog as he was taken surprise by a wizened old man creeping out from the burned out arcade behind him. Jamie hailed him, gesturing at the boarded up stall. “Hey there Curly… you know the folks what run this place?”

The old man waved them into the arcade. 

Past the broken down games, and behind a heavy sliding door Junkrat and Roadhog both blinked at the bright fluorescent lights overhead. The back room of the arcade was a warren just as much as the market, but the people here worked in silence, some tapping away at computers, others soldering and tinkering with bits from the rows of shelves. None of them looked up at the newcomers.

Junkrat pulled at a crate on one of the shelves… junk sure, but like The Alice itself a different grade of junk… electronics junk.

He cleared his throat, “So… um… can we talk… private? Like a back room in the back room?”

The old man frowned. “I don’t think that’s necessary mate. What’ve you got for sale? I half expect it’s not the kind of junk we’d find useful, but I’ll humor you.”

Jamie hopped from leg to peg and back again impatiently. “Thing is, mate, I think it’s necessary, so if we can’t talk behind closed doors than maybe we call the whole thing off. See ourselves out.” 

The old man complained with annoyed sigh that put Roadhog to shame, but pulled them into a back closet anyway. It wasn’t exactly empty. In the corner, a black-haired figure in a high collared violet sweatshirt was hunched over a laptop tapping away. But it had heavy pair of over-the-ear earphones on, so Jamie figured this might be the best he would get.

He reached into his pants and hopped around a bit, trying to get to the hidden inner pocket, “Hang on, mate… safe keeping and all that.”   
He giggled finally pulling the small data key out of his trousers. “So this here mate. This is something. I’m not totally sure what kind of something it is, but I found it in… well… circumstances.” At this Roadhog grunted in agreement. 

“Big bunker underground...” he jibbered on nervously.

“NO!” Roadhog grunted loudly.

“Right, right, not supposed to give away my secrets now am I? Hee heee….” He held the data key right out of the reach of the old man. “But now I’d like to know what it goes to. I know these things are like physical passwords, but for what?”

The old man reached for it, but pause when Jamie snatched it into his palm. “I’m not sure what it goes to,” he said diplomatically, “I couldn’t tell that unless I know where you got it, or could plug it in. I can’t guess if you just wave it in front of me.”

The black-haired figure in the corner eased the headphones back. “Can I take a look?”

Jamie’s eyes widened, the person in front of him was gorgeous, all dark eyes and sleek LEDs with a throaty accent that made his gut feel like he’d just eaten a live bug. Almost unconsciously he reached the data key out to them. 

Until a heavy hand closed around his clockwork arm, pulling him back. “Don’t,” Hog warned, “stop.” 

“Or not,” the hacker replied nonchalantly. “But if you want to know what it goes to, you want to know what it’s worth, I can tell you in a few keystrokes.”

Roadhog’s rumbled an indeterminate warning, and out of the corner of his eye Junkrat saw his other hand reach for the hook on his belt.


	3. MeiHam PTA AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfinished AU idea... please feel free to use it as a prompt and drop me a note if you do something with it!

Mei is PTA president; soft-spoken and sweet but very organized. The other PTA parents love her. She’s a champion of extended STEM education and is raising funds to create a Makerspace for the kids.

Roadhog and Junkrat moved into town over the summer with 6 junker kids in tow. Junkers have little consideration for formal family relationships, but two of the kids (the oldest and a toddler) are dead ringers for Roadhog… wonky teeth and all. 

Usually Roadhog is the only one who goes to the PTA meetings. He doesn’t say much, but he always brings homemade cookies or banana bread. Even though he’s not chatty, he shows up early to every event and helps all the way from set-up to tear-down. Some of the other PTA parents are put off by his rough appearance, but Mei has become fond of him because he’s so reliable and obviously cares about the kids.

Junkrat is another story though, he shows up to his first PTA meeting, and constantly fidgeting and randomly interrupting. Roadhog does nothing to quiet him and Mei becomes aggravated at the constant violation of the rules of order. After the end of the meeting she pulls Roadhog aside and asks him to leave Junkrat at home next time if he can’t be more respectful. Roadhog glances around to see if anyone else is looking at them and says softly under his breath “But he’s got a crush on you.”

Mei blushes bright red and…

_I dunno, you write the rest! It’s a prompt, it’s an AU… have fun with it…_


	4. BBQ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just dumb MeiHam fluff. Mild nudity.

Mei paused before the front door, shifted the large bowl of fruit salad to her hip and rang the doorbell. She reminded herself again, that they had invited her, that she should reach out to the other new members of Overwatch, and that she really just needed to get out more. Her years on ice had left her lonelier than she had expected. Old friends had moved on, when she tried to make new friends she stumbled over cultural touchstones that she had missed. And she just spent so much time trying to catch up on the science from her absence that she didn’t have much time to catch up on people. As peculiar as the Junkers were, she appreciated that they seemed just as out of step as she was.

No one had answered the doorbell. She rang again. Then knocked tentatively. 

“Oi!” she heard a crackly yell from the backyard. Junkrat peeked his head around the gate at the side of the house. “Come on back! Bell is broken anyway!”

She picked her way through the weedy lawn to the back gate. The Junkers seemed to have about as much regard for their front yard as Junkrat had for hygiene. But surprisingly, their back lawn was lush and green, with tidy planters full of marigolds and a row of unruly sunflowers across the back wall. She could already smell the hamburgers and sausages sizzling on the grill.

“Here, I brought you…” Mei stopped short. 

Roadhog loomed over the grill, his head engulfed in a cloud of barbecue smoke, humming to himself as he wielded a ridiculously tiny spatula. But what had caught Mei’s attention was his bare, hairy ass. He was wearing nothing but motorcycle boots and a heavy canvas apron. 

Mei’s first instinct was to turn and run back to the gate, but Junkrat promptly crashed into her back and they both tumbled onto the grass. Her fruit salad spattered all over the lawn and two tiny fluffy dogs promptly ran out to investigate. 

Roadhog looked up from the grill, grunted in surprise and picked up both dogs with one hand and nestling them in the crook of his arm. 

“Sorry!” He huffed, and reached out his other hand to help Mei up.


	5. The Hunger

The bullet seared clear through Widowmaker’s left arm, and without even thinking, she moved to aim her grappling hook. _Get out!_ But the arm didn’t move, the nerves leading to her hand were severed. And when she looked down a sickening bolus of blood jumped out of her arm, in perfect tune with her heartbeat.

_Artery._

This was it then, she could rest now. This was where it ended. Two, maybe three beats of her sluggish heart and it would be over. She slumped down against the wall and counted the moments. She had been trained to know precisely when the next beat would come, to shoot in the long frozen moments between beats.

A dark veil seemed to descend over her vision and the wound went cold. Surely, she would be done soon. But suddenly, something started to coalesce in her arm, and then, a half second before the next expected beat, the sharp pain of a solid object in the wound.

Widowmaker flickered open her exhausted eyelids.

“Gabe? Is that…”

The masked figure loomed over her, solid now. “My finger? Yes. It should stop you from bleeding out till we can get you some help.”

Reaper groaned inwardly to himself. Her soul was so close he could taste it. But he had been told, time and time again, that the woman was “an investment,” that if he couldn’t save the mission, he was to save her. 

“Please Gabe, let me go…”

Fuck Talon. He was hungry.


End file.
